You're Always Hiding From the Light
by Ista
Summary: Poe has been captured. A kyber crystal has been stolen. Rey, Finn, and Ben to the rescue! AU. Light Rey/Finn and Ben/Poe.
1. So Those Are My Schemes

**You're Always Hiding From the Light**

**Summary: **Poe has been captured. A kyber crystal has been stolen. Rey, Finn, Ben to the rescue! AU. Light Rey/Finn and Ben/Poe. Set in the same universe as my fic, _Far Away From Nowhere, _but this story takes place a few years later, and you don't need to read the previous fic to understand this one.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything related to _Star Wars..._Sigh.

**Warning: **Torture.

**Chapter 1: So Those Are My Schemes**

Grakkus the Hutt could throw a party.

For one night a year, the Hutt's palace on Nar Shaddaa was transformed into a glittering, extravagant free-for-all: gambling on the lower floors, dancing on the upper floors, feasting in the middle. And when it came to any of those activities, Grakkus spared no expense. The games offered to players at the Hutt's behest made Canto Bight's attractions akin to lower levels of _Gundark Trainer._

The only unoccupied spaces of the Hutt's mansion on this evening were his personal chambers on the top floor, including a hallway of vaults for safeguarding Grakkus' accumulated wealth, preserving Jedi antiquities, and detaining an occasional _living _specimen.

The people who attended Grakkus' New Moon party were as diverse as the entertainment. Former First Order lackeys hob-nobbed with spice runners. Smugglers bought drinks for bounty hunters. There were Jawas, Twi-leks, Zeltrons, and Trandoshans. However, despite the unique mix of occupations and species, there were few brawls. Everyone had too good of a time not remembering the time they just had.

It was the perfect night for an extraction.

Ben Solo hit Grakkus' roof with a _thud_. Before he had time to look up at the craft responsible for his landing, it was gone, just another smear of lights obscured by the moon's thick atmospheric smog. Although he couldn't see it, Rey and the _Falcon _were close by, drifting in the pollution until called upon.

Solo tugged at the scratchy high collar on his formal evening jacket. Covering the jacket, a large greatcoat hung off his frame. The coat was stiff and uncomfortable but contained more pockets than he could count, each one stuffed to maximum capacity.

_What are you doing here?_

The voice belonged to a ghost, one that barely surfaced anymore in his memory, like the twinge in the front of your skull before a migraine begins. Ben sipped a breath and shrugged _Kylo Ren_ away.

_Paying Finn and Rey and Poe back for everything they did for me. It's the least I can do before I leave them again._

Then Solo got to work.

Mechanics always soothed him, even as a youngling. R2-D2 had come up with an ingenious solution to the problem of security. Ben's fingers pried off the nearest control panel on the roof. And, like a well-trained pick-pocket, he swiped a miniature screwdriver out of one of the openings in his coat and began dismantling the system. Next, a pair of scissors. He cut a green wire with one hand and locked a small yellow disc into the control panel with his other. Orange lights flashed briefly, and Ben winced, expecting a siren to stymie their plan. But the lights vanished, and the system restored itself into a calming turquoise glow.

Solo allowed himself a small sigh of relief. If all had gone well, he had just bought himself six minutes to get in and out—no alarms, no locking mechanisms, no cameras. He hoped it was enough time.

Next, Ben found an air vent and checked for guards before opening it and jumping inside. He kept track of the countdown in his head.

_Five minutes, 30 seconds._

He removed his dress shoes and slid them into two large coat pockets. Sensing no other beings in the immediate vicinity, Ben ran down the dark hallway sandwiched between various bedrooms and studies until he came to a large chamber- Grakkus' main audience hall.

_Five minutes._

Solo flipped through the diagram of the top floor in his mind and continued straight ahead, taking a left at the next corridor and dashing into darkness: vaults on his left, a gallery on his right, and then…

He slid on socked feet past the prisoner's door and lurched to a halt. He pressed on the door before spying the old fashioned padlock. Grakkus wasn't taking any chances with _this _prisoner. Breathing hard, the lightsaber jumped in his hands, a white beam slicing through the air, inches from his face.

Memories flooded back to him he had no time to suppress. _Four minutes, _he thought absently. Hands shaking, Solo cut the lock on the door, and it swung inside on its hinges.

The room was empty, except for a wide metal chair and a bucket in the corner. Poe Dameron sat in the chair, slumped over, lips parted, eyes closed. Restraints of some kind wrapped over his arms and ankles. In an instant, Ben observed the cut along the corner of Poe's mouth, the bruises on his face, the soiled bandages wrapped around his hands.

Solo stepped forward to wake him, but a sudden crackle of electricity emanated from the chair. Before Ben could act, the energy wrapped around the shackles and shocked him.

Dameron yelped, and his eyes shot open wide. Then they blinked in confusion, locking onto Ben's, and he melted into his metallic chair again, his lips hinting at a smile.

"Took you...long enough."

_Three minutes._

The saber vanished into another coat pocket, and with a flick of Ben's wrist, Poe's restraints crumpled and peeled away, falling harmlessly to the floor.

"Thanks…" Poe began, but his eyes were already sliding closed.

Solo lunged forward and caught the pilot before he fell out of the chair. Poe's face pressed against his shoulder before his eyes opened again, more slowly this time, and Ben wondered if Dameron had been drugged.

"No time," Ben whispered. "I'm getting you out of here."

Solo stood, taking Poe with him, and he propped the pilot against himself. However, Dameron sagged so heavily that Ben was considering the option of carrying him, when Poe mumbled, "They got… the crystal…"

_Two minutes..._

"Where is it?" Ben growled.

"Main...floor..."

Solo felt himself stall. A part of him wanted to bundle Poe into his arms and get to the roof and fly away. To _hells_ with the crystal. But it was important to Rey, and therefore it was important to Finn, and therefore-

"'m not...leaving without it," Dameron said, stubborn as always.

Ben huffed. "Would my argument that you can barely stand persuade you to give up on that idea?"

Poe's eyes were already sliding closed again. "Please…?"

_One minute..._

Solo swept Dameron off his feet and ran with him down the hallway, past the audience chamber, and straight to the giant doors that would lead them to the elevator, as well as the inevitable…

"Goon One and Goon Two," Solo muttered in greeting.

They were big and brawny and sharp-toothed, but Solo had seen worse. Better to have more brains than muscles when facing a Force-user, but these guys didn't know that.

Solo almost barked a laugh at the sight of their clueless expressions as he barreled toward them, directly out of Grakkus' private chambers, prisoner in tow.

Goon One at least had the foresight to raise his axe in greeting, but a wave of Kylo's hand (and a hefty dose of the Force) was no match for either of them.

Solo rattled off hypnotic commands as quickly as possible: "You're all right. Everything's all right. You didn't see anything. Nothing weird. Prisoner is still in his cell. Great? Great. Gotta go."

The two goons' eyes glazed over as Ben hurtled past them and into the giant gold-plated elevators that would take them out of danger, for now.

"Not my best work," Solo grumbled to himself because Poe's eyes were closed again, the pilot's head lolling against his shoulder. "Still, it did the trick."

_Thirty seconds..._

Once in the elevator, Ben set Poe gently on the floor and punched the button for level ten. The descent would buy them more time, assuming the elevator didn't stop on any other floors. Solo prayed it wouldn't as he fumbled for the comm in his pocket.

"Finn. Poe doesn't have the crystal. It's somewhere on the first floor. We're headed to meet you."

"Acknowledged." A burst of static, then Finn's voice returned, sober and worried: "How is he?"

"He's alive," Ben said, his throat suddenly dry. "But he's injured. We'll make our way to you as soon as we can."

"Roger."

"And Finn-"

"Yes?"

"Tell Rey to get out of here the moment she sees Grakkus' guards on the roof. The timer is about to go off, and someone's going to realize eventually that Poe's not there. Tell her to make the getaway look hasty, so they'll think Poe is well and truly gone."

"Roger that. How many minutes do we have?"

The seconds ticked off in his head: _Three, two…_

"None."

The elevator opened with a _ding_, and the sirens began to blare.

**TBC**

**A/N: **Soooo many thoughts.

I enjoyed TROS, but I wanted...more. I wanted more Finn, more Poe, and much more Ben. I've had this story in my mind since writing _Far Away From Nowhere,_ and even though this plot line takes place much farther in the future from where I am right now in "Far Away…," I wanted to explore it. Hope you enjoy! As always, let me know what you think!

~Ista. ^_^

*Note: The title and chapter titles of this fic are taken from one of my favorite Tears For Fears songs, "Break It Down Again."


	2. No Sleep For Dreaming

**You're Always Hiding From the Light**

**Chapter 2: No Sleep For Dreaming**

Ben scooped Poe up as gently as he could and slung one of the pilot's arms over his shoulder. Neon orange lights crackled around them, causing lightning-flashes of color to brighten the pitch black hallway on level ten before plunging into darkness once more. Solo was grateful for the lack of lighting because he heard high-pitched screams and the clatter of several boots headed their way.

At a run, Solo crossed the hallway. Dameron's feet dragged on the floor, his closed eyes camouflaged with bruises. Sirens whooped, clashing in Ben's ears as he ran. At last, they came to a public fresher, and Solo opened the door with his left side, guiding Poe in with the other. As the door swung shut behind them, Ben listened for the guards. Dameron's head rested on his shoulder. Seconds later, Solo heard shouts above the din.

"What's going on?"

"Prisoner escaped! Top floor!"

"That Resistance pilot?"

"He's got a ship."

"Get to the roof!"

Then they were gone. Seconds later, the blinding lights and wail of alarms ceased. Solo felt a bead of sweat jump down the base of neck, and his heart flip-flopped before regulating into a steady beat.

_Too close._

Then he shuffled Dameron past a multitude of empty stalls to the back of the fresher and set the pilot on the ground, positioned against the wall.

Ben removed the suffocating greatcoat from his shoulders and let it fall to the floor, extricating his lightsaber and placing it in a trouser pocket. Next, he slid his polished black shoes on and pulled up the white sleeves of his dress shirt, playing with his silver cufflinks as he appraised Dameron's condition. The pilot was still unconscious; it definitely didn't look like he was going to jump up at any moment and help Ben find the crystal.

Solo imagined C-3PO in that moment, hovering behind him, and saying ominously, "_We're doomed."_

Ben bit his lip and glanced at the fresher entrance, where anyone could walk in at any moment.

_No turning back now._

The majority of Grakkus' security guards would be too focused on the commotion above to worry about them. At least that was one advantage. Maybe their only one.

"Poe." Ben knelt down to him when there was no response from the pilot. "Hey, Poe." He slapped the smaller man's face lightly. "C'mon-wake up."

Worry tugged at his senses—a strange emotion—and Ben shrugged it off. Instead, he placed a palm on Poe's chest. Even through his clothes, Solo could feel the pain and dehydration and deep exhaustion.

"What did they do to you?"

A mixture of anger at Grakkus and impatience at their current situation caused Ben to pull the greatcoat over Dameron, covering the pilot up to his neck, and then he hurried out of the fresher, hoping no one would enter when he was gone. His fancy shoes clicked against the black tiles, the sound reminiscent of hours spent pacing the halls of the _Finalizer_. He took the first right and entered a ball room dimly lit by candelabras. Solo felt minutely relieved that no one would have an opportunity to see his face and possibly recognize it.

Round tables full of half-empty plates and glasses dotted the floor, while enormous banquet tables lined three walls of the room, filled with more food than Solo could ever imagine.

_Good thing Rey isn't here_, he thought fleetingly with a smirk. _We might never get her to leave._

Grakkus' guests to his feasting rooms were in various stages of drunkenness, euphoria, and dyspepsia. Some danced, swaying to the instrumental waltz piped in from nearby speakers. Others gossiped at rounds, laughing and carousing. Some lay in the middle of the floor, passed out mid-bite. Ben began to think he didn't need to worry about leaving Poe in the refresher.

He grabbed the nearest empty plate he could find and piled it with hors d'oeuvres before grabbing a cocktail glass filled with a purple liquid and getting out of there.

Solo marched to the fresher, which was (_thank the Maker_) empty of strangers, and found Poe still sprawled in the back, overshadowed by Ben's greatcoat. The ex-Sith Lord tossed the fluorescent contents of the glass he stole into a sink and filled it with water. He set the plate beside Dameron and took Poe's head in his hands, tilting his chin up to get the glass between the pilot's cracked lips.

"Poe, drink. Poe… Wake up."

Whether it was the promise of water or the desperation of a Force user, Poe's eyelids fluttered, and he complied. After taking a small sip, Dameron moaned, swallowing with some effort to keep it down, then he drank more.

"That's it," Solo encouraged him. "Slowly."

Poe drank until the glass was empty, and Ben re-filled it. Dameron took another sip.

"Where's Finn… and Rey?" the pilot managed to say. His eyelids threaten to shut with each syllable.

"What makes you think I came with them?" Ben shot back. He was eager to keep the pilot talking. Perhaps it would wake him up more.

Dameron smirked through a split lip. "Saving you was our original plan. Then I had to go and get captured—"

"Drink," Solo commanded.

Poe sipped the water. He coughed harshly, his throat working. "How was the carbonite?"

"Relaxing."

Poe nearly choked on the rest of the water.

"Easy...easy," Ben soothed. He poured the rest of the water into Dameron's mouth.

The pilot closed his eyes as if he was falling asleep again, then he jerked upright. "They...they're okay, right? Finn and Rey?"

"They're fine." Ben set the glass aside and set the plate in Poe's lap, picking up a tiny sandwich.

Dameron's lips quirked into another sly smile before he rasped, "You gonna feed me too?"

Solo sighed and dropped the sandwich back onto the plate. "Feed yourself. I need you to get strong enough to help me get out of here."

Poe took a bite of a cracker piled with some kind of fish paste, but he put it back as if the effort overwhelmed him. "I don't need food...I need sleep."

"You need new clothes." Ben rifled through the pockets of his baggy coat, flinging it from right to left and flipping it upside down until he produced the desired contents. "Hey… Hey!"

Solo snapped his fingers in front of Poe's face because the pilot was asleep again, and he was heading for horizontal.

Poe moaned loudly and Ben righted him against the wall. Pulsing bass from the night club level directly above them muffled any noise they might be making, but Solo was starting to worry less about being found out and worry _more _about Dameron's condition.

Ben had seen people act like like Poe before. Like sleepwalkers, they existed in a continuous state of half-consciousness brought on by one of the cruelest forms of torture. Solo shivered even though he wasn't a bit cold.

"Sleep deprivation," Ben said. "For how long?"

"Days," Poe said with a sigh, rubbing his neck. "I dunno. Every week, Grakkus wanted to try a new type of torture—a 'variation on a theme' is what he called it. All because I shot one of his cousins years ago… You were there, I think. Remember that time when Rey got stabbed when we were trying to escape this place? Anyways, Grakkus hooked me up to a chair that measured my brainwaves and vitals and whatever. Every time I'd start to fall asleep, I'd get shocked. Haven't had a solid hour in…" Dameron's eyelids drooped again, and Solo tapped him on the shoulder.

Poe snapped awake again, his eyes even more hazy than the last time he opened them. Confusion spread across his face. "Are you… _dressing _me?"

"Yeah," Ben said as he produced a pair of grey socks. "Eat. It'll help a bit. And keep talking. Tell me about the crystal."

And although Poe had previously proclaimed he didn't want any food, the pilot shoved crackers and pieces of meat and thinly-sliced vegetables into his mouth as if all of Hutta Town was about to run out of appetizers. While Dameron was distracted, Ben helped him change into a fresh pair of grey trousers and a clean white shirt, discarding his filthy and torn clothes into a disposal bin. As he smoothly removed and replaced clothing, Solo tried to ignore the bruises, cuts, and burns which seemed to mar every inch of the pilot's skin.

"The crystal was given to one of Grakkus' courtesans… That must be the worst job in the galaxy… Anyway, I heard she's a hostess to the high rollers in Grakkus' gambling establishment. She keeps it on a necklace and, apparently, never takes it off. Not sure how comfortable that would be in the shower, but maybe it works for her…"

Eventually, Dameron's often hard-to-follow ramblings were replaced with soft snores. Ben looked up from putting on Dameron's new shoes to find the pilot fast asleep. Solo carefully put a black jacket on him, gold-seamed and elegant, before gently unwrapping his hands. Ben hissed when the pus-stained bandages revealed the second degree burns on Poe's palms, turning the flesh tender and bloody and probably infected.

Solo thought back to what Poe had said about his captor's "variation on a theme." _Last week must have been fire, _Ben thought grimly. Then he fumbled for a pair of black gloves, similar to the ones he used to wear in the First Order, and slid them over the damaged skin.

"Poe," he said, more soothing this time. "We have to go."

But when Ben used a small amount of Force to trigger Dameron into waking, the pilot startled so badly that Solo was afraid the noise might be louder than the dance music blasting above them.

"No— get away! I don't have what you want. I won't tell you where the droid is. I won't be intimidated by—"

Dameron stopped abruptly as Solo put his hands up in defense, every muscle in his body aching with the guilt of memories he could never apologize for: violation upon violation within the pilot's mind, a time when _he _was Poe's torturer.

"Ben?" The pilot shook, his eyes lost and disoriented. Although Poe was older, in that moment, Ben thought the pilot appeared much younger—tired and frightened. It took Solo every inch of self-restraint to not enfold Poe in his arms and try to make his pain go away.

Poe let out a breath. "I'm sorry.. I thought that you…"

Solo said quietly, "It's all right."

Dameron hugged his knees to his chest, studying the gloves on his hands as if wondering how they got there. "Ben, I'm scared. I can't do this."

Solo thought back to when the two were young on Yavin 4. When he was afraid of heights and had gotten stuck in the giant Massassi tree, Poe had reassured him and gotten him down. Now the roles were reversed. Ben would have to be the strong one. He had to be strong for Poe's survival.

"Yes, you can. We have to go."

"You got a blaster for me?"

"You won't need it. This mission is strictly covert."

Dameron chuckled, but it turned into a dry cough. "Have you _seen _my face lately? You don't need to be Grakkus to know that _I'm _the prisoner who escaped."

Ben suppressed a smile and produced the last items he had secretly hidden away in his pockets: two gleaming white masks. "That's what these are for."

* * *

Finn wished he had stayed back with the _Falcon._

If he had stayed behind as the pilot, then at least he could have had BB-8 to keep him and his ever-worried mind occupied. Worst-case scenario after worst-case scenario had assaulted his thoughts. Their intel might have been wrong about where Poe was being held. Grakkus might have somehow found out about their plan, and Ben was walking into a trap. The _Falcon_ might have been spotted when dropping off Finn or Solo, and Rey would be fired upon.

Finn's anxiety wouldn't let up until Ben had radioed in. At least Poe was alive. But Solo had said that the pilot was injured. Finn shook his head to focus his thoughts. He had to find the crystal.

The gambling center was packed to maximum capacity. Most people were extravagantly dressed, and many wore masks that reflected a kaleidoscope of multi-colored lights from the various game centers. Outfits adorned with feathers, beads, Beskar, and vonium draped luxuriously over frames. Some women wore enough gems around their necks that Finn feared they would pull a muscle.

The ex-stormtrooper didn't really know much about kyber crystals, only a minimal amount of info from what Rey had shared with him.

"_They look like ordinary crystals," _she had said, flipping through some of Luke Skywalker's old guidebooks. "_They're clear in color until bonded with a Force-user. The one that Poe had obtained once belonged to Lor San Tekka. Before him, it belonged to Luke Skywalker. It was meant for the Jedi to use. Grakkus only captured Poe because he wanted that crystal, but when he realized who Poe was…"_

Finn swallowed. That probably would have been a good time to tell Rey that he was Force-sensitive. Finn had been keeping the secret for a few years now, but why in the galaxy he was keeping it a secret, he didn't know. Finn could just never find the right time to tell her. Like most actions he took, his approach was slow and calculated and thought-out.

_Except for leaving the First Order and rescuing Poe and escaping to Jakku, _he thought with a smile. _That was the most spontaneous thing I've ever done._

But back to the fray. Finn scratched his chin absently where his mask was itching and tried to focus. His task was akin to finding an honest creature at Mos Eisley. Totally doable.

_Who am I kidding? This is impossible._

Then Finn remembered what Rey would do when she wanted to solve a problem. She'd tap into the Force. The ex-stormtrooper was almost inspired by this technique when he realized he _didn't know how to do that_. Because, again, it was a secret to him, something that he had always been interested in but never asked Rey about. However, Finn decided to give it a shot. He put his back against a column, where he wouldn't be in anyone's way, closed his eyes, and concentrated.

He didn't know what he was concentrating _on_ exactly, but he focused on his breath. The cacophony of the crowd, buzzes, dings, and whirs from gambling machines, and clinking of glasses all blended together in an intolerable discord. Finn couldn't stand it any longer...

And then it disappeared. A soft hum took away the harshness of the background noise, and his ears popped. Finn's eyes blazed open, and he walked, as if in a dream, through the various gambling rooms until he found a Sabacc table. He sucked in a deep breath.

Grakkus the Hutt stooped over the table, surrounded by a half dozen other players. Clearly enjoying himself, the massive warlord had a golden goblet bigger than Finn's head at his side and a plate filled with various delicacies. But Finn was less in awe of Grakkus and more fixated on the crystal hanging from the neck of an Iktochi female who was sitting next to the Hutt.

It was as if the crystal spoke to him without speaking. In his eyes, it practically glowed, pulsing, like a cry.

In one instant, the hum was gone, and Finn was thrown into the regular world. He quickly backpedaled out of the room and hid behind the wall right outside, bringing his communicator up to his mask to hide it.

"Ben? You copy?"

Static before Solo's voice buzzed in his ear. "Finn—we know where the kyber crystal is."

"Already found it," said Finn, his eyes scanning the bar to his left. There was a figure hunched over his drink who seemed familiar. Somehow. The man had bright red hair. "We're going to have to figure out some kind of distraction."

"Roger. We're making our way to the first level."

"Oh, _kriff," _Finn swore.

"What is it?"

Finn hadn't seen the man in years, but he would never forget that sneering face.

"General Hux is here."

The comm went dead for a few moments, then: "...Perfect."

**TBC**

**A/N: **So excited to continue this little fic! Hope you all enjoy the latest chapter. Let me know what you think! ~Ista. ^_^


	3. In the World of Sound

**You're Always Hiding From The Light**

**Chapter 3: In the World of Sound**

Poe Dameron wanted to take a nap, one that lasted for roughly 17 hours.

He hated the smell of bacta (too many unpleasant memories) but Poe would have done anything to _bathe_ in it at the moment: soak his hands, soothe the cuts, fade the bruises. He ached all over.

And he was so damn tired.

Rey and Finn had found Ben. Poe wasn't the least surprised they did it without him, because Rey was...well, _Rey_. And the way she flew and fought with Finn was so precise that Dameron was itching to teach a course on their tactics to new Resistance trainees. It was as if they could read each other's minds. And they probably could.

But _Ben _had rescued _him. _And that was unexpected and painful and made his pulse quicken… and it was the _best thing he could possibly imagine. _Yet all of Poe's mixed emotions about their unlikely reunion had been put on hold because he could barely string two thoughts together, let alone two sentences.

When Ben finished talking with Finn, he turned his attention to the masks he had produced moments before. As dazed as he was, Dameron drank in Ben's focus, his fastidious mannerisms, the wavy black hair that nearly touched his shoulders.

"Hux," Solo hissed. "Never thought I'd see that red-haired son of a Bantha again."

"It's a small galaxy," Poe said quietly, biting his lip to suppress a smile. "What are you gonna do? Punch him out?"

The brief moment of pure amusement on Ben's face would have satiated Poe more than a _bathtub _of tiny sandwiches.

"No," Solo replied, monotone.

"Can _I _punch him out?"

Dameron remembered all too clearly what Hux has done to him on Vera 5. Good ole space hub. Full of acid lakes and stormtroopers and torture tables. Best place to have your vocal chords mangled. Screaming was always more fun when it was silent…

"He's never going to know we're here, thanks to these."

Poe's vision blurred when Solo placed the mask over his face and secured it behind his head, but it wasn't due to it obscuring his sight. Poe felt himself fading. Without thinking, he gripped the front of Ben's jacket, wrinkling its crisp, dark grey surface.

Poe swallowed thickly. "I don't think...I can hold out much longer. My eyes...tired."

"C'mon," Solo said and yanked him to his feet. "We're getting that crystal."

Dameron's legs felt like rubber when he placed weight on them, but he stayed upright. His reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors of the fresher as they dashed by showed a different person; this alter-ego wore an immaculately tailored jacket and dress pants. The gold seams of his blazer matched golden lines etched above the eyes and onto the forehead of his white mask. Ornately decorated, the upper half of his mask reminded him of clockworks on the sides and either a sun (or some kind of beetle) on the forehead.

Solo's mask was also white, but much plainer, and it only covered the left side of his face.

Poe kept pace with Ben in the hallway until they heard brusque voices up ahead.

"More guards!" Solo hissed and jerked Poe by his sleeve.

Dameron reeled, and the two hustled onto another golden elevator. However, before Ben could press the button for the first floor, a large group of partiers entered, pushing Poe and Ben to the back. Dameron inched closer to Solo, holding onto his arm, heartbeat picking up again. It wasn't an ideal situation, but they blended right in.

Then a group of guards entered the elevator.

Poe's muscles tensed, and he gripped Ben's arm tighter. Solo squeezed his arm back, as if to say, _It's all right._

The pilot wasn't sure if he believed Ben, but he wanted to. He caught himself staring up at Solo's mask, like a crescent moon, remembering a time not so long ago that he had sat at his old friend's bedside, caring for him, willing him to get better, to wake up, wake up.

_Wake up!_

Poe's head snapped up from where it had fallen against the back wall of the elevator, and he rubbed his temples, as if that would make up for days without sleep.

Through the anonymity of his mask, Dameron peered at the guards. One or two of them scanned the crowd, then looked away. Clearly, none of them were suspects. It was stuffy with all of the bodies in the elevator, and Poe felt his head begin to droop onto Ben's shoulder. It was nice to be able to do that. Ben had a nice shoulder.

Then the elevator _dinged_, and Solo grabbed his sleeve again. In seconds, they were swept away with the rest of the revelers, past the guards, onto level eleven. Poe glanced back as the elevator doors closed shut, stern guards' faces disappearing. They had traveled in the opposite direction from where they needed to go.

The club level.

The bass beat of the dance music pounded from outside the club. It made Dameron's teeth vibrate, and it reverberated in his chest, as if the rhythm wanted to massage his heart and boss it around simultaneously.

"We should find a back exit. Less likely to run into guards that way." Solo had to shout to be heard, and they weren't even in the club proper yet.

The elevator behind them _dinged _again and an uproarious bunch of Falleen practically exploded out of the carriage. Dameron lunged for Ben, but he was too weak to stand his ground; thus he was swept away and carried through the double doors, into oblivion.

Neon lights sparkled and glimmered all around him, twisting in geometric displays on the ceiling and writhing on bodies that swayed and soared and entwined. _Everything _was moving, _everything _was alive. And the music was so loud that he couldn't think straight. The pack of green hybrids that had pushed him into the club finally released him, laughing raucously, and Dameron ended up on the floor, body aching, calling out for Ben.

Someone pulled him to his feet. He moaned as his burnt hands scrambled for purchase, and he expected to find Solo, towering over him with an annoyed expression. Instead, it was a young Chiss woman. Her blue skin almost gave off its own light in the darkness, long dark blue hair falling across bare shoulders. Her dress was made up of hundreds of minuscule lights that blinked like Black One's control panel.

She spoke directly into his ear, and the purr of her voice conveyed her true intentions. "Are you here with anyone?"

The pilot nodded; his brain was too muddled to do much else.

She smiled and placed a hand on his chest. The song blasting around them ended, and four towering columns in the front of the club each displayed one word in sickly green, neon block letters:

SILENCE

IS

MORE

FUN

Before Dameron knew it, she placed some kind of device over his ears. He recoiled from her touch, but she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay," she mouthed. "Just follow me."

She twisted a knob by his ear, and music flooded into his mind. Simple, yet persistently haunting, it made Poe feel like he was floating. As he relaxed into the lull of music and drowsy heat of bodies moving synchronously, Dameron wasn't even aware that the girl's fingers were prying off his mask—

"Stop!"

A strong voice cut through the music, and Poe woke from his dream. The Chiss shrunk away, the lights on her dress disappearing like dying stars, and Ben Solo wrenched the headphones from his ears.

Dameron was suddenly being pulled through a strobe-lit landscape that was eerily quiet. Multitudes of dancers swayed to a beat that was only heard by themselves. The entire atmosphere was so chaotic and overpowering that Dameron swayed on his feet and would have fallen to his knees if Ben hadn't stopped him.

"You may not collapse yet," the ex-dark Lord hissed, continuing to drag the pilot across the dance floor, into another hallway, and then a dimly lit stairwell.

Poe regarded the new space warily. For the moment, it appeared they were alone. He slumped against the white-washed wall.

"'M sorry," he murmured, exhaustion stealing over him after the nightclub debacle.

"Don't run off again," Solo said sharply. With a tug, he grabbed Poe's arm and began descending the stairs.

Flight after flight passed by painfully and slowly. Dameron could do little more than hobble, and each step downward felt a little more like sinking sand. He wondered when he'd reach the end of what little energy he had left.

"Sorry," Poe said, panting with exertion. Sweat slid down his face, behind his mask, making him wish he could remove it. "Mind if we… rest a little?"

Dameron could tell Solo was not thrilled about stopping, but he placed a secure hand against Poe's back (causing a flutter up his spine) and leaned the pilot against a wall.

Poe had barely closed his eyes when a small group of revelers wearing bejeweled masks and long mauve cloaks brushed past. Dameron instinctively grabbed Ben and pulled him so close that their masks clicked together.

The pilot waved a gloved hand at the group from behind Ben, and gave his most alluring, "Good evening."

Some of the young females in the party giggled as their high heels skittered up the stairs and out of sight.

Immediately, Ben disentangled himself from Poe, growling, "Stop getting off track. We don't have time for… amusements."

_That _comment was uncalled for, and Dameron pushed himself off the wall with a grunt. "Hey- I didn't _mean_ to go in the club. I tried to stop the kriffing Falleen, but they were too strong and—"

"Admit it. You were enjoying yourself with that girl…" Solo was on the move, racing downstairs two and three steps at a time. Dameron had to practically jog to keep up with the taller man's gait.

"Ben, stop," he said softly. But the ex-dark lord kept moving.

"Stop!" Dameron said more forcefully. His eyes watered, and his legs shook. The stairs beneath him started to twist, spiraling in a nauseous loop.

Solo whirled around on him. "Once again, your charm is threatening this mission. You could have been discovered, recaptured." The half of Solo's face that Poe could see twisted in a snarl, his finger pointing at the pilot accusingly.

Dameron stepped close enough to Solo to taste his breath. "You're jealous."

Ben's eyes widened. Poe suppressed a chuckle and would have paid more attention to the other man's forthcoming rant, but his heart had started hammering faster than normal, his vision lightened, and his head felt barely attached to his shoulders. One moment, he was staring at Ben's pointer finger, the next he was staring _up _at the former knight of Ren. Recycled air from an overhead vent brushed his face—maskless. Solo had removed his own mask too, and his dark brown eyes were liquid as he stared down at Poe with a solemn expression.

"Why…am I on the floor?"

"You passed out."

"Oh." Dameron swallowed thickly. "'M fine." He raised a hand in the air.

Solo took it and hoisted him upright. Poe closed his eyes, his surroundings awash in light, and Ben shifted around to brace him in case he fell.

"Poe!" He said in warning.

"Just dizzy… Wait…"

Solo propped him against the wall as Dameron regained his breath. When he opened his eyes, Ben was staring at him again, looking pale and—

"Scared?"

Ben's shoulders shrugged up then down, noncommittal, unreadable, and downright maddening.

Poe couldn't help grinning. "Admit it. Rescuing me was a long shot. And now that you've found me… you're..."

"What?"

Dameron shook his head, burying his thoughts along with a very small dream: _Ben Solo will never care for you enough to express concern._

The Resistance pilot smoothed the wrinkles from his jacket. He watched Ben push black hair behind his ears and attach his mask back on, handing Poe his own mask.

They continued on, stumbling, staggering. With each step, Dameron felt like falling, but he had regained some meager amount of strength to continue walking—maybe only because Ben had shown a rare moment of weakness. And was it just him, or was there a tremor in Solo's frame that hadn't been there before?

_Or it was there all along, and you were too tired to notice?_

They finally made it to the first floor. A gleaming sprinkle of lights illuminated the entrance to the gambling hall. Poe bent over, leaning against Ben, breathless.

Solo's mouth was a straight, unreadable line. "If anyone asks, I'm Corellian, and you're a lightweight."

Then he folded Poe's arm in his and pushed through the double doors.

* * *

Finn nearly forgot himself when the pair burst through side entrance doors and joined the madness, but he bowed his head to allow another couple to pass and kept his emotions in check. Initial exhilaration that Poe and Ben had made it to the first floor died down when he saw the way his pilot friend shuffled while he walked, the way Solo clutched Poe's arm as if it might fall off. Finn stalked toward them, ushering the duo over to an unoccupied bench across from the Sabacc room. Ben braced Dameron's arm and gingerly sat both of them down. Poe moaned softly, as if the act of sitting down might break him in half.

"What took you so long?" Finn hissed. He glanced at the Sabacc room, catching a glimpse of the hulk of Grakkus inside, hoping the game was still going on.

"Poe wanted to dance," said Ben.

Dameron mumbled something incoherently behind his mask and started to list forward, threatening to fall over. Luckily, the pilot was in between Finn and Ben, and the two of them placed palms on his chest, pushing him back up.

"Hey, buddy," Poe mumbled in Finn's direction.

"What's wrong with him?" Finn whisper-shouted, unable to keep the horror out of his voice. He wanted to be able to rip the mask from his friend's face, see his eyes, and read him, but just by touching his arm, the ex-stormtrooper picked up Poe's thoughts and hurts, flashes of feeling like muscles jumping from overuse.

"No sleep," Finn and Solo stated at the same time.

Poe shifted his head from right to left, glancing at both of them before saying, "Nice trick."

Ben's one eye sharpened, and Finn could feel the shrewd man appraising him, feel the probing fingers of his mind reach out, icy and unnerving, then rapidly retreat.

"Where's Hux?" Solo snapped.

Finn indicated the bar by tilting his head to the left. The ex-general's bright red hair would have been visible on the other side of the hall.

"Should I buy him a drink?" Ben asked, and Finn bit his lip to prevent from laughing out loud. He still wasn't used to Solo's personality, his sense of dry humor. It was so like Rey's.

Just then, a group of four heavily-armed guards brushed past them, boots clicking crisply on the reflective marble floor. Finn's body tensed, and he gripped Dameron tighter. He sensed Solo freeze in a similar way, relaxing when the guards passed without incident. The event couldn't have been a more perfect reminder that the longer they remained in Grakkus' compound, the less likely they were to get out of there alive.

"So, how much do you want this kyber crystal?" Solo's question broke the silence and reminded Finn to stop holding his breath.

When Finn glanced at Ben, he saw no facetious sneer, only desperation. The look didn't make sense until he noticed the way that Solo held Poe. The pilot's head was resting on Ben's shoulder, mask slightly askew, snoring softly. But rather than pushing Dameron back up or jostling him awake, Ben was holding Poe steady with both arms, almost cradling him.

_Oh, _Finn thought. Then: _OH!_

Suddenly, lots of things made sense.

Finn said, "Rey needs it. She didn't go into all the details with us, but the crystal is important."

Ben swallowed dryly. "Like, 'fate of the galaxy' important?"

Finn nodded, repeated, "'Fate of the galaxy' important."

Solo sat still for a few beats, then said, "I'll be right back…"

"Wait!" Finn caught Solo's sleeve, and an invisible hand of ice tightened around his wrist like a reflex. Ben stopped, and the pressure vanished. "I can get it."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Finn said quietly. "I just need a distraction."

"Okay. Give me two minutes." Ben was already slinging one of Poe's arms over his shoulder and beginning to stand when Finn took the pilot's other arm.

"I got him," Finn said.

"No," Ben said. "You're not taking him in there with that..._thing_. Grakkus will immediately be suspicious."

"But he can't go with you if what I _think_ you're about to do is what you're _actually_ going to do, and if that thing you do involves lots of blasters and punches and flying glasses."

Solo groaned. "You should give me credit for understanding what you just said, but I agree with you."

Finn allowed himself a smug smile and steered Poe closer. "So that's settled—"

"But he's still not going with you."

It was only with an immense amount of willpower and self-preservation instincts that Finn kept his voice low. "So what's the alternative? We leave him on this bench to take a nap?"

"Sounds real good to me, fellas," Poe slurred.

Solo pursed his lips, then he placed a palm on Dameron's chest, fingers spread. There was a flicker of..._something_—Finn couldn't quite grasp its intent. But Poe gasped as if his head had been dunked in a bucket of ice water, and he stood up on his own steam.

"Ben…" Poe began. Finn wished he could read the expression on his friend's face.

Solo put a stabilizing hand on Dameron's shoulder, and Finn noticed a visible tremor in Ben's hand that hadn't been there before. "I just gave you a little energy. It won't last long. But it might help."

Ben moved as if to walk away, then he stopped and turned back to Finn. "Make sure he's safe."

If someone else had spoken those words to Finn about Poe, he would have retorted with mocking ridicule. But Finn saw the genuine concern in Solo's eyes, and he couldn't belittle that.

"He's my best friend," Finn replied earnestly. "You bet I will."

A smile curled Ben Solo's lips before he turned and walked away.

**TBC**

**A/N: **This chapter is dedicated to my youth, filled with silent discos.

I borrowed a lot of vibes from _Vanilla Sky_ for the club scene.

I borrowed Poe's mask from _Eyes Wide Shut._

I borrowed Ben's mask from _Phantom of the Opera._

I think Kylo Ren would really get along with the Phantom. I mean, they should go out for coffee or something. Sometime.

Did I mention I'm really tired and sleep-deprived? (Not as sleep-deprived as Poe in this fic. Thank goodness. But still.)

But I'm glad I was able to post this today!

This is officially the longest author's note I have ever written.

More action and feels to come! Let me know what you all think. Shout out to **Laatija **for the lovely reviews!

**~Ista**


	4. Better Break It Down

**You're Always Hiding From the Light**

**Chapter 4: Better Break It Down**

Solo missed his carbonite dreams.

He wasn't sure if dreaming was even possible while stuck in the metallic, lung-burning, frozen substance, but he had had them—a lifetime of dreams, blurring and sticking together like leftover glue on fingertips. The dreams had dried, and Ben would chew on them, and then they would start again, loops upon loops until a design emerged.

Some contained his uncle, always searching, always calling out for him until Luke's voice became hoarse. In every dream, his uncle's hair was greyer, his beard more bedraggled, the lines under his eyes more defined. Often, Luke's cries would blend with his mother's.

Ben dreamt of his father's eyes before he died. He dreamt of Han Solo when he was young and dashing and a scoundrel and everything Ben wasn't. Sometimes, he pondered the dreams of his father when _he_ had been trapped in carbonite, hanging in a Hutt's den. And, in rare moments of lucidity, Ben would dream _those _dreams. They were uncomplicated and standstill and everything his father _wasn't._

He dreamt of his mother at his bedside after the Finalizer, wrinkled hands on his face, reaching into his mind to soothe him in the aftermath of Snoke. Despite all he had done to betray her, she had visited him every night.

He dreamt of the _things_ he had done to people. Countless people. At least hundreds who met their fate with twin red flames. And worse.

Sometimes, Rey would visit him in a dream. She always wore white and always took his hand, pressing the back of it to her cheek. She never spoke because he could always read her thoughts.

_Where are you? _She would ask.

_In a carbonite haze, _he would reply. _What would you have me do?_

_Send your thoughts out to space, to find me. And then dream of Poe._

A recurring dream involved the ghost of Darth Vader and contained cliches of dark hallways and running only to find the gravity much greater, and his feet too heavy to carry him to safety. And what was safety? It was a swamp, a voice, a hangnail of light in the distance. It was the raw, warm scent of the Yavinian, the saltiness of sweat and sweetness of rain.

The best dreams ended with the sliver of light growing into a yellow glow. Standing in the middle of that sun would be the silhouette of a figure. Solo would run into Dameron's arms and close his eyes and dare the dream to repeat itself.

When Ben Solo turned away from Finn and Poe in the gaming room, it was only the thought of that dream that kept him placing one foot in front of the next.

_The cocky pilot. You do everything for the cocky pilot. For what? Because of the dreams? Because he was once your friend? Because you feel guilty for what you did to his mind? _

His frame shook when he reached the edge of the bar, and he steadied himself with one clawed hand on the counter. He didn't dare look back at his comrades, either too worried to give them away or show weakness. Pepping up Poe had taken what little reserve of energy he had amassed after being freed of the carbonite, and Ben needed a moment.

The bartender grunted in his general direction, and Solo grunted back. Apparently, his monosyllabic offering had been an _actual drink_ because the lizard-headed brute behind the counter slid a small glass of lime green vitriol in his direction.

It took Ben three attempts to lift the glass to his lips without dropping it or spilling its contents. He wished he _had_ when he tasted the sulfur-smelling pondscum. More acidic than alcoholic, Solo grimaced and set the glass down. Only then did he scan his surroundings, searching for a quick mark. Whomever he chose, they would have to be weak enough for him to easily escape, and close enough to Grakkus' private gambling room to cause the Hutt to become distracted.

Meanwhile, Hux sat two seats to his right at the bar, like a scarlet beacon.

Even as Kylo Ren, Ben Solo had never been vengeful. At least, when he killed people, he always saw their deaths as balancing a galactic scale.

But seeing the living catalyst to his misery, a simultaneous pawn and major player in Kylo Ren's destruction, Ben Solo couldn't resist.

And there was the fact that he wasn't sure his legs would hold out if he moved further than the bar.

So Ben downed his not-quite poison, delighting in the warmth it spread through his limbs, and plopped beside the former general of the First Order.

"Hello, Hux. Can I buy you a drink?"

* * *

Finn tried his best not to panic as he watched Ben creep to the bar, order a drink, and say something to Hux. For a split second, the old suspicion arched through the metal brace along his back.

_No, no. We can trust Ben. Remember what he did for you. For Rey…_

Finn quelled the shake in his voice and turned his attention to Dameron. The pilot sat upright and blinked—a positive change.

"Are you okay?" Finn asked Poe, just because he needed to hear Dameron answer.

"Gotta be the third time you've asked me that in the last ten seconds."

"Okay, but _are _you?"

Poe sighed. "Yeah, buddy. Don't worry about me… I know that's impossible for you, but try."

"And Ben treated you well?"

"Yeah, he…" Poe's eyes softened, as if he was gazing on some distant scene that was a lot more beautiful and hopeful than their current location, before returning back. "Kinda snippy, actually."

"And this is the first time you've noticed that Ben is _snippy_?" Finn deadpanned.

"No, I mean, more than _usual_."

"Right. Gotcha."

"And did whoever kidnap him take the time to _feed_ him?"

"Poe, you don't get three meals a day when you're frozen in carbonite. Shall we?" Finn motioned toward the Sabacc room.

But Poe was on a tangent. "And kind of pale and shaky."

"Pale and shaky," Finn repeated without really listening. "Yeah. Uh-huh. Well, he just stopped you from _falling over_ with his god-like Force power, so… I'd be kind of _pale and shaky_ too."

The ex-stormtrooper didn't want to waste time and had no idea how long Ben was planning to wait before causing a distraction, so he pulled Poe to his feet, adjusted his mask, and headed straight for the Sabacc room.

"Whaddya want me to do?" Dameron whispered around his side.

"Stay silent and upright," Finn replied and meant it. He didn't mean to be so harsh with his best friend, but Dameron wasn't exactly firing on all thrusters, and they couldn't afford to tip off Grakkus to their identities.

As they slipped inside the quieter enclave of the Hutt's private gaming room, Finn was worried that guards might search them or they would need to request an audience, but there was only one guard in the whole room, and the male Keshiri stood by Grakkus' side like a purple statue.

_They're all on the top level, _Finn thought, hoping that Rey was all right. She hadn't radioed in since he told her to make a get away, and she wouldn't contact him until he let her know it was safe to talk, or it was an emergency.

Poe stumbled, and Finn grabbed the other man's collar to prop him back up. His hands trembled, but the lights in the small room glowed dimly and hid their shake. A ragtag assortment of creatures hunched around the Sabacc table in the center, and still more hovered over the table or clung to the shadows of the room, quietly mingling. Various servants circulated with drinks and platters of food.

One small golden creature with bright fuschia hair offered a glass to Finn, which he politely declined. Instead, he tugged on Dameron's sleeve and guided the pilot to the left hand side of the table, closer to the courtesan Finn has viewed before. The crystal around her neck hung unobtrusive, yet magnificent. To any regular person, the crystal was understated; indeed, it was much smaller than the size of many jewels _some_ wore in Grakkus' palace that night. But to anyone who was familiar with Jedi history…

Finn tightened his grip on Poe's arm until his friend grunted from the pressure, but Finn couldn't help it. The kyber crystal filled his mind all at once, as if its hidden luminescence glowed only for him.

The tug on his senses was even stronger this time. The kyber crystal _sang _to him as clearly as a convoree, calling to him, as if it was pleading, as if it was alive.

Finn squirmed beneath his mask, its humid bones, plastic, and feathers sticking to his skin. He needed to decide on his course of action before Ben's imminent distraction played out.

He leaned over the table, trying to show an interest in a game he knew nothing about, and that's when he felt the warm hand close over his wrist.

The Iktochi beside Grakkus wasn't looking at him. She was staring intently at the game table, but her firm grip was accompanied by a female voice in his mind.

"_You can't take it. It belongs to me."_

* * *

A small, strangled sound came out of Hux.

"So that's a no on the drink?" Ben asked amiably and ordered himself another. "Well, it's good to set a limit."

Hux uncurled his white fingers around the half empty glass in front of him and sat up a few inches straighter, looking Solo in the eye. Ben winced. The former First Order general looked… rough. Dark circles ringed his eyes. Although dressed in a sleek black suit, there was something _older_ about Hux; he sat stiffly, and Ben noticed a cane propped against the bar next to him.

"What… What do you want?" Hux rasped, fear mingling with a hefty dose of bewildered exhaustion.

And all at once, Ben didn't care about revenge.

Solo sighed and set his drink down. "I saw you here, and I told myself that it was fate. It was fate that you got away after nearly murdering me only to wind up here, at my side. I told myself that you deserved to pay for what happened…"

Ben swiveled on his stool, facing the gameplay. "My goal is to cause a distraction, and starting a fight with you would have been the easiest course of action. You still hate me, and you fear me, and I still dislike you." Ben turned back to Hux. "So what happened?"

Hux's red-rimmed eyes shone astonishment, and Solo suppressed a smile of pleasure for surprising his former nemesis.

"You said I got away," Hux murmured, staring into his drink as if contemplating solar systems. Ben remembered the former general's eyes when he gazed upon Starkiller, how they were red with fire, glowing. "But my right leg shattered when the Finalizer was destroyed. I barely escaped with my life. Not that my life matters anymore. The strongest I ever felt was only in the presence of you...or Rey. And my plans for your destruction were dictated by Snoke. In the end, I was as much controlled by Sith magic as any high-ranking officials in the Order."

Ben acknowledged Hux's confession and ultimate negation of blame with silence. The _dings_ and trills from a hundred or more gambling stations behind them tumbled around in his mind. Lights from the machines blinked on and off, unceasing, glinting off players' gems and flashy outfits. The elite on Nar Shaddaa were more diverse but not all that different than others across the galaxy. The Empire, the First Order—it didn't matter _what_ the group was called as long as the ones who profited from their control remained wealthy.

"If you want an apology, I am sorry."

It was Solo's turn to look with shock at Hux. The redhead stared back, sober and calm.

Hux seemed to be holding his breath. "You still want to fight?"

Ben shook his head and sipped his drink. In a moment of clarity, he decided what he was going to do to help Finn get the kyber crystal. It was fitting, actually.

"Look at us, Hux. Here we are, having wasted our younger years on _control_, trying to seize _power. _We were formed by our parents' ambivalence. We could have been brothers."

"We were pawns instead. It was all a game."

"Speaking of games," Ben said. "How about we interrupt a few right now?"

Solo closed his eyes, and all of the glass on the first floor shattered.

**TBC**

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay! A short chapter before we get to lots of action and fun stuff. I had absolutely no idea where I was going with Ben and Hux's interaction until I started writing it today, but I'm pretty satisfied with its outcome. I anticipate about two more chapters in this fic. Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


	5. When It's All Mixed Up

**You're Always Hiding From the Light**

**Chapter 5: When It's All Mixed Up**

Finn couldn't stop his mouth from opening when the female voice echoed in his head.

_She has the Force too! _he thought.

_No, laser brain, I don't have the Force. I am Iktochi. We can read minds._

Although the voice sounded annoyed, a smile rippled across her features.

Just then, Grakkus barked out orders to a passing waiter. The courtesan (and half of the players at the Sabacc table) visibly flinched. And when the Hutt drew a slimy claw along her back, the Iktochi scooted several inches in the opposite direction.

Standing behind him, Poe placed a hand on Finn's shoulder. _Careful, _the gesture seemed to say.

The ex-stormtrooper feigned interest in the gameplay while keeping his eyes fixed on the Iktochi.

_This crystal doesn't belong to you, _he directed at her. He could feel Poe's fingertips dig into his wrist.

_It doesn't belong to you either, _she shot back, her eyes flitting from him to the table to various players in a semi-circle around them.

_No, it doesn't, _Finn thought. _It belongs to the galaxy. _

The courtesan rolled her eyes. _And what are _you _going to do with it, Force user?_

Finn shook his head imperceptibly. He couldn't honestly answer her question because he didn't know. He had no idea why Rey wanted the crystal so badly.

Just then, the kyber crystal emitted a high-pitched sound, a frequency that made Finn wince, but he was the only one to do so. The Iktochi looked at him curiously now, head tilted, as the crystal around her neck began to pulse and glow with a hidden sapphire light.

Finn swallowed, but his mouth and throat were bone dry. He knew he was the only one who could see the change in the gem. Its noise echoed in his skull, and the light from the kyber crystal dazzled his vision. Dizzily, he stood up, hand to his head. Thankfully, Poe was at his side and guided him to the back wall without attracting too much attention. In a strange role-reversal, Poe steadied him and brought a hand to his shoulder.

"Talk to me," Dameron whispered gruffly. "Tell me what's happening."

The ex-stormtrooper was about to speak, but then the sound from the kyber crystal abruptly stopped. Silence echoed in Finn's ears, louder in the _lack_ of sound than the previous pitch.

It was the silence that preceded disaster.

All at once, the deafening shriek of _breaking_ ricocheted from one corner of the first level to the other. Drinking glasses burst in revelers' hands, cutting them, sending red rivulets pouring down arms and dripping onto the floor as they fled the small room, screaming. Pieces of clear pebbles, some smooth, some as sharp as needles, cascaded like waterfalls from fractured windows and game machines. Finn glanced outside the Sabacc room and saw similar chaos throughout the gaming center.

Inside the Sabacc room, Grakkus and his guard remained frozen, whether in shock or anger, Finn couldn't tell. Poe was still holding onto him, both staring, immovable. The courtesan glared at Finn, and all he could do was shrug.

_Brilliant distraction, Ben, but the Hutt isn't budging._

And then, as if Solo heard his thoughts as clearly as if he'd spoken them, the Sabacc table splintered in half and fell over, scattering colorful cards left and right.

Grakkus roared and barked what could only have been commands at the Keshiri before scuttling away on his spidery mechanical legs, slimy tail swishing behind him.

Finally, Finn found himself and Poe alone with the courtesan. His legs ambled like rubber, but the initial shock of the Force wave was wearing off, and he didn't have time to worry about the crystal's curious effects on his physiology.

"Give it to us now," Finn said, standing in front of her. Then, because he couldn't help it, he added, "Please."

Dameron groaned behind him, and Finn told himself the pilot's outburst was due to being tortured and _not _because Finn was terrible at demanding things.

She shook her head. "Not until I am free."

Then she held her wrists out to show that they were bound with a thick metal chain. Finn glanced at the loops of bondage as they wound around the broken table and anchored to the floor.

By the time her hands fell heavily into her lap with the weight of the chain, Finn bowed his head with equally heavy hopelessness. The Iktochi wasn't just a courtesan who worked for Grakkus. She was a person who was enslaved. Finn would have granted her freedom that instant, but he doubted his blaster would cut through any chain that thick.

A lightsaber, on the other hand...

Finn snapped his fingers and patted Poe's chest. "I'll be right back."

Dameron moaned wearily and leaned against the wall. "You better hurry. I think that boost Ben gave me is starting to wear off."

Finn nodded and dashed out of the Sabacc room. Almost immediately, his heels skidded to a halt.

He expected Ben's little distraction to involve fists and flying barstools. Finn had not expected the "little" distraction to include breaking Grakkus' entire gambling establishment.

Every crystal flute had shattered, every glass bulb cracked, every window turned to chips of clear splinters that coated the floor and crunched under Finn's boots wherever he stepped. Pieces from wooden tables lay like younglings' discarded blocks, decorative marble columns split with jagged rips, as if lightning had struck them.

No _dings, _bells, or buzzers sounded out. Piped-in music had been replaced with the _ca-ching! _of multitudes of gold and silver coins pouring forth from broken games. Imperial coins—Grakkus' private currency.

The guests who weren't running or screaming from minor injuries sustained in the damage crammed their pockets full to bursting with the free loot, then slid on broken glass to the nearest exit. Even the elite, with their furs and gold belts and feathers, got down on their hands and knees to root in the coins, like puffer pigs.

And through this spectacle, Ben Solo sat on the bar stool and smiled softly. It was the vacant expression on the man's face that spurred Finn past the rubble and mayhem. He _always _worried about everything (Finn just couldn't help it) but Ben had a tendency to worry him the most. After all, it wasn't so long ago that he and Rey had revived Solo from the carbonite-a shivering, blind mess.

_It wasn't so long ago that you knew him as Kylo Ren._

Finn ran faster.

* * *

Ben's muscles ached, and his head felt light. His lungs vaguely burned as if he had run a brisk race. All in all, the effects of the loss of Force energy necessary to pull off his distraction were not unpleasant. Dazed, he admired the chaos all around him, the back of his greatcoat sticky from where the bottles of liquor had exploded against him. He couldn't help but smile. People like these had molded and controlled him for years, dabbling in dark forces they could never begin to imagine.

Solo turned to Hux, wanting to see what the redhead thought of his handiwork, when a growl from behind the bar gave him enough warning to brace for the attack, even though he had no immediate energy to prevent it.

"YOU!"

Lizard Face punched Ben in the nose and dragged him over the bar, sending a spray of broken glass cascading with him. Solo felt a gush of blood stream down his mouth and chin, and he raised a hand toward it, coming away red. He wiped his nose with his sleeve and smiled, lips slick with blood.

"Do you know who I am?" he calmly asked the bartender.

"Someone who's going to know the wrath of Grakkus very soon," Lizard Face snarled, raising a fist to strike again.

"I'm—" Ben started but didn't have the opportunity to finish because the barkeep was suddenly on the floor, and Hux was standing over him with his staff raised.

Still dizzy from the punch, Ben said, "That's handy."

"It's made of phrik," Hux said, one eyebrow raised while looking down at him. Incredibly, the former First Order general offered his hand. Solo took it, and Hux hauled him to his feet.

There was no gratitude offered or asked for. Solo knew Hux would rather just as well never see him again, and he felt the same way.

So Ben said simply, "You're no good to the galaxy hiding on Nar Shaddaa."

"_Hiding?" _Hux replied, his old tone of arrogance sending a pang of nostalgia through Ben. "You were the one with the mask."

Without another word, the former general slipped away, hands trailing near a broken game to intercept a cascade of silver coins, plucking them like ripe fruit before blending into the sea of dark suits and indistinct faces.

_Mask. _

_My mask._

Ben touched his face again with the realization that the barkeep had knocked his disguise clean off. When Solo scrambled on his hands and knees to find it, picking through bits of knife-sharp glass, he found the crescent-shaped mold in pieces.

"Ben!"

Finn's piercing voice rang out, and Solo got to his feet, reeling and exposed. He wanted to tell Finn that it wasn't supposed to happen like this, that he had lost control _again, _but something in the other man's eyes told him he already knew his thoughts.

Ben leaned a shoulder nonchalantly against the bar, as if he wasn't trying to hold himself up, which he clearly was.

"I caused a distraction," he said with a vague wave of his hand.

"I noticed," Finn said, deadpan, then grabbed his arm. "We gotta go."

* * *

"What's your name?" Poe asked the courtesan. It was an oddly generic question, but he couldn't think of anything else to say, and his vision began to sparkle around the edges. Talking was the only thing that might help him focus while he had to wait for the others to return.

Her mouth parted as if slightly stunned at the question. Perhaps it had been a long time since anyone had bothered to ask her.

"Entera," she said.

"I would tell you my name," he said, yawning. "But I can't."

"I already know who you are, Poe Dameron."

Poe's mouth fell open in shock before he yawned again. "How did you—"

"Grakkus was aware that you had been looking for this crystal for some time. You were all he could talk about, so I heard every word. And now, you appear just as the prisoner, Poe Dameron, has escaped. And you wear gloves as if it's as cold as Hoth in here. I never even had to read your mind to figure it out."

The Resistance captain tilted his head, gloved palms turning upwards in surrender.

Entera smiled slightly, but her smile was genuine this time. "Don't worry—I would never rat out a fellow prisoner. The only thing I care about is escape."

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity but was probably a matter of minutes. Dameron was fading by the time Finn returned with Ben in tow, but the sight of red smeared across Solo's face was enough to send a surge of energy through his legs to meet the pair.

"What happened?" he asked, grabbing a stray napkin and dabbing it in a pool of ice water, taking care to avoid broken glass.

Finn cocked his head to the mayhem outside. "Pretty much everything that _could_."

Dameron smirked and dabbed the damp cloth on Ben's face, wiping the blood away. But when Solo shrugged him off, Poe felt his chest go cold and tight.

"No mask," Ben muttered, as if embarrassed at his own reaction to Poe's treatment. "No point in being presentable." Then he turned to Finn. "So what now?"

"It's the courtesan," Finn began to explain. "She won't give up the kyber crystal without being freed."

"Her name is Entera," Poe said. "And she knows who I am."

Finn let out a sigh of exasperation, his pointer finger ready to accuse. Ben stood, emotionless.

"She read your mind!" Finn exclaimed.

"No, I didn't," Entera chimed in.

Finn groaned. "And you believed her?"

"Let's face it," Poe said, indicating Ben's bare face. "We're not the most inconspicuous group to ever infiltrate a Hutt's compound."

"And we're wasting time," Solo growled, stalking to the Iktochi. Maybe it was a combination of his stature and menacing countenance that caused Entera's reaction. Or perhaps she read his mind and saw his darkling past in a jolt of red flame. But when Ben leaned over her, the fingers on his right hand curling inward as if squeezing an invisible neck, Entera let out an agonized scream that cut through the din outside the Sabacc room.

Finn swept in and pulled Ben roughly away from the Iktochi, whose face was frozen in a terrified grimace. _What did she see? _Dameron thought, and longed to be in her place right then, privy to the tall man's thoughts. Poe noted the way Solo let Finn handle him, all loose limbs and slumped shoulders. It was clear that the Force user was running out of juice.

_Or maybe he regrets what he did..._

"That's NOT how we do things in the Resistance!" Finn whisper-shouted. "And if I ever catch you trying to intimidate someone again, I'll…"

While his best friend ranted, Poe was blearily aware of how vulnerable they were. How long before Grakkus would return to his private game room to assess the damage? Or maybe he was already on his way after hearing Entera's scream, a dozen guards conveniently behind his wormy tail.

Solo had been right. They were running out of time. Poe had gladly sacrificed himself in the process of obtaining Rey's Force trinket, but he was damned if he was going to let Finn or Ben be subjected to Grakkus' torture rooms too.

Dameron staggered to his feet, and while Finn was berating Ben, Poe snatched the lightsaber from Solo's bottomless pocket. He flicked it on, the metal base kicking painfully in his damaged hands as the blue light glowed, reflecting in his eyes. He approached the Iktochi while thinking very clearly: _Raise your arms._

Still terrified, Entera moved both hands up, the thick chain between them, and in one fluid moment, Poe sliced through her bonds.

The metal chain was still sizzling when Dameron turned the lightsaber off, breathless from his action, and Entera gaped at him. Mere seconds passed, and then she darted from her seat, knocking Poe down as she ran from the Sabacc room.

* * *

_Ah, kriff._

Finn released his grip on Ben's shoulders the moment Dameron hit the floor. He just caught a glimpse of the Iktochi's flowing silver and lavender garments before they were gone. The ex-stormtrooper immediately went to Poe, but the pilot had picked himself up before Finn got there and chased after her.

"Wait!" Finn hissed, but it was no use. The pilot was long gone.

Finn didn't even pause to confer with Ben before he ran after Poe, back into the fray of the blitzed casino. He dodged pell-mell patrons and overturned cash machines before skidding to a halt, his heels scattering glass chips.

He was the same distance away from Poe that Poe was from Entera, but Grakkus was closer to her, charging in from their left side with a pack of guards. There was no way Poe would reach Entera in time before either the pilot or Iktochi were captured. Finn whipped around, but Solo must have been back in the Sabacc room, brooding or too tired to continue. Finn was alone.

_Not quite alone_.

Finn didn't know if it was his own voice or Rey's in his mind, but after the message, he heard an unmistakable _ping! _And when he narrowed his focus, it was as if the lights had been suddenly dimmed, but Finn could see the kyber crystal's glow, pulsing faintly, as if crying out to him to be rescued.

The movement was unpracticed, yet it was fluid and completely natural. Finn raised one palm, and the crystal moved, unexpectedly airborne, no longer bound to Entera's neck. It soared, glittering, through the air, above the heads of frantic, oblivious bystanders. Poe's eyes followed it as he stood at a standstill before chasing its course, white mask obscuring the expression on his face. Time seemed to stop as Grakkus and his guards halted too, all staring at the tiny crystal flying through the air. The Hutt's mouth fell open in a partly bemused, partly comical expression, juxtaposed with the chaos all around him.

If Entera had felt the absence of the priceless treasure around her neck, she gave no indication, but kept running, out of the casino's main entrance doors and into the night.

The crystal flew until it landed in Finn's hand, where it glowed so brightly that Finn had to pocket it for fear it would attract attention. Too late—Grakkus was scuttling after him with his guards in tow, other guards deployed to the entrance to block it.

"Finn!" Dameron called out, staggering to a halt some thirty feet away.

The ex-stormtrooper stood frozen, aware of the hush that had gathered around him. Grakkus loomed, eyes burning with a combination of fury and desire.

"You will give it to me," his booming voice rang out in Basic. His accent was refined—unlike any Hutt he had encountered before.

Finn could feel his stomach twist into knots as he slowly removed his feathery mask. At this point, it was either fight or surrender, and the odds didn't look too good if they chose the former.

_Where are you, Ben?_

Then Poe had to go and be heroic again. The pilot had made his way to Finn's side and limped in front of him. In one fluid movement, Poe removed his mask too, revealing a mangled smile and bruised face. Finn's jaw ached in an empathetic response.

_Damn, Dameron. What did they do to you?_

Poe spread his arms out like an X-Wing, covering him. "Take me," Poe said and jerked a thumb back at the ex-stormtrooper. "He's a nobody in the Resistance."

Finn rolled his eyes and smacked Poe's back lightly. "Thanks a lot."

"I'm the greatest pilot they've got," Dameron said, cocky to the last.

Grakkus's hazy orange eyes glinted. "But _he's_ the one with the crystal."

At this, all of Grakkus' dozen guards raised their blasters point blank on the pair.

"Woah! Woah!" Finn shouted. He and Poe reflexively raised their arms. "Unnecessary, fellas. Just put those _down_." Maybe it was a hint of Force-trickery on Finn's part, but Grakkus' goons wavered in their positions and began to lower their weapons. Simultaneously, Finn took the kyber crystal out of his pocket and began to slowly place it on the floor. "I'm putting this down too. See, nice and easy. Down, down, down."

"LOOK UP!"

Finn and Poe both jerked their necks as a voice cried directly above them and a rope dropped down from the ceiling.

"Ben!" Poe cried.

At that moment, all of the lights on the first floor went out.

Finn instantly pocketed the kyber crystal again, and both he and Poe blindly snatched the rope at the same time; it ascended at a fast pace. Screams, growls, and moans echoed all around them as they floated in space, helpless.

The rope creaked, and Finn heard Dameron curse beneath him.

"Hang on," he said, more of an order than a comforting remark.

"Not much else I _can_ do," Poe muttered.

Finn was tempted to remove the crystal from his pocket in order to use it as a light source, but he did not want to risk giving away their position if others could see its light too.

As if the inability to see anything wasn't terrifying enough, red and blue blaster fire began to light up the expanse around them, darting above, below, left, and right. All Finn could do was grasp the rope tighter with sweat-slick palms and pray that a blaster bolt wouldn't rip through it and cause them to plunge to their deaths.

Just then, Finn felt his right shin burn from a blaster, and he yelped. Soon after, he felt his knuckles brush the edge of something solid, and then he was being pulled through a small opening, his body dragging on a floor. Dameron followed behind him with an "Oof!"

Finn shakily let go of the rope and brought a hand to his injured leg, wincing, breathless. A white line of light from Solo's lightsaber glowed just above Finn's head, illuminating the small room they had been delivered to. Ben stood before them, wielding the saber with an ever-solemn expression on his face; Finn was getting used to that expression.

The ex-stormtrooper blew out a shuddering breath.

"Never thought I'd say this, but I'm _really_ glad to see you, Ben."

**TBC**

**A/N: **What can I say? I just hope everyone is doing the best they can under the circumstances. Reading fanfiction has always helped me calm down during the most stressful periods of my life, and I've found myself going back to favorite stories and series over the past few weeks. Hope you all are safe and well. Hope this little fic gives you a tiny bit of comfort during these uncertain times.

~Ista


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